Relaxation Techniques
by Lys ap Adin
Summary: Yang Hai thinks Isumi needs to relax, and isn't afraid to take steps. Yang Hai/Isumi.


**Title:** Relaxation Techniques**  
Characters:** Isumi, Yang Hai**  
Summary:** Yang Hai thinks Isumi needs to relax, and isn't afraid to take steps.**  
Notes:** For Cliché Bingo, prompt: "Jealousy." Smut. 1137 words.

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**Relaxation Techniques**

Isumi Shinichirou is an astonishingly serious young man. Yang Hai rather approves of that; Isumi's dedication to go is going to take him places, if only he can get his focus issues under control. And maybe calm down, too, just a little, because he's not going to do himself any favors if he snaps in two over a goban out of sheer stress.

Lucky for Isumi, Yang Hai doesn't mind calming him down when he's managed to get himself well and truly wound up.

This is his favorite way to do it. It's the end of a long day, and they've played and studied damn near nonstop, till even Yang Hai's eyes are starting to cross and Isumi looks like he's given himself a headache as he pores over a fistful of kifu. Isumi is fully capable of ignoring that and plowing right on through the night, if Yang Hai lets him, but that won't do at all--sleep is just as important for becoming a pro as studying is.

"Enough," he says, and leans over Isumi to pluck the kifu out of his hands and set them aside. He ignores Isumi's protests altogether. "Time for a break."

The slightly glazed look in Isumi's eyes clears, and he protests. "Your breaks aren't breaks at all. They're stopping for the night."

"Some breaks are longer than others," Yang Hai says, airy and unconcerned, and presses Isumi down.

Isumi seems to be getting used to the fact that Yang Hai isn't ever going to let him win this argument, because he goes easily enough. He still protests after Yang Hai gets him flat, perhaps for form's sake. "Sometimes I think you can rationalize anything."

"Just about," Yang Hai agrees, and straddles Isumi's hips as he leans down and kisses him.

It's almost comical, how easily the day's tension runs out of Isumi. Yang Hai could just about let himself be jealous of the way Isumi just lets it go, whenever something else manages to get his attention away from whatever it is he's brooding on. Whenever he gets a handle on doing this in a game, he's going to be a demon.

Then he goes still. When Yang Hai lifts his head to look at him, Isumi's eyes are unfocused. "What if I had--" he begins.

"Later," Yang Hai says, hasty, because as much as he loves go and respects Isumi's will and drive to improve, he's not about to let himself be interrupted right now. He runs his mouth down the tendon on the side of Isumi's throat to underline the point.

Isumi tries, anyway, even though he's gone boneless under Yang Hai. "But--"

Yang Hai bites down. "_Later_," he says, firmly, as Isumi's body goes taut and he makes the kind of sound that goes straight to Yang Hai's cock, all husky and breathless, and Yang Hai knows he's won.

He waits until after he's gotten them both naked to savor his victory, surveying Isumi with satisfaction--well, it'd be a crime not to take a moment to appreciate the sight. Isumi is just plain _pretty_, especially when he's flushed and looking just a little dazed from the kisses that have left his mouth red and just a little swollen. He's even prettier when Yang Hai reaches down and wraps his hand around Isumi's cock, because then he arches against the bed, head falling back against the pillow, all one long sleek, shuddering line.

Yang Hai strokes him slowly, watching the open pleasure on Isumi's face and enjoying it. There's just something very rewarding about the way Isumi gives himself over to this, as completely as he gives himself to the study of go. The only real trick is getting his attention away from go in the first place.

But Yang Hai is getting pretty good at that.

Isumi makes a protesting sound when Yang Hai lets go of his cock, but it takes him a second to get his eyes open and lift his head. By the time he does, Yang Hai's got his knees spread wide and is settled between them. Isumi makes another sound, this one disbelieving, and as Yang Hai closes his mouth on Isumi's cock, he stores up the stunned look on Isumi's face to treasure later.

Isumi's moan is liquid and open and runs down Yang Hai's spine like a current of electricity. His hips roll up and his cock slides deeper into Yang Hai's mouth. Yang Hai reaches a hand down to his own cock as he slides his mouth over Isumi, enjoying the heat as it coils low in his belly, and watches Isumi sprawl against the bed. He's gone limp and is moaning, which is pretty much exactly the effect Yang Hai is aiming for here. If Isumi's got a single thought in his head right now, Yang Hai'll quit go to herd goats for a living.

Yang Hai slides his mouth over Isumi, moving with him and drawing it out until Isumi is a gasping, incoherent mess and his fingers are scrabbling against the blankets, and the heat is curled tight and insistent in his own belly. Then Yang Hai slides his mouth all the way down Isumi's cock, taking him deep and humming as he does. Isumi comes apart at that, with an open, stuttering moan and a face wiped blank by pleasure.

Yang Hai watches him, hand tightening around his own cock, but it's not till Isumi subsides against the bed and looks at him, eyes hazy and soft, that he finally loses it. He arches as fierce heat rushes down his nerves, wiping all of his other concerns away and wringing him out.

When he comes back to himself, Isumi is still looking at him, still with that wondering, soft-edged expression, even though he's already starting to go unfocused and sleepy. "Wow," he manages, tone sleepily reverent, which Yang Hai finds deeply gratifying.

"Yep," he agrees, really pretty satisfied all around, and coaxes Isumi under his blankets before he actually manages to drop off entirely.

Isumi lets him. By the time Yang Hai has cleaned up and made sure the computer is powered down, he's still and quiet. Yang Hai figures that means he's conked out, and slides into bed, ready to do the same.

As he turns the lamp off, Isumi's drowsy murmur floats through the darkness. "Maybe if I had cut--"

Yang Hai groans. "In the morning," he says, with as much authority as he can muster.

There's no answer, save for the deeper rhythm of Isumi's breathing.

Yang Hai snorts. It just figures, he thinks, rueful, as he curls onto his side, and passes the last few minutes before he falls asleep thinking about what measures to get Isumi to knock off for the day he'll try next.

**- end -**

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